Reccurance
by Leighlei
Summary: Sleepy Hollow Fic-- THe horseman rides again, and a long lost member of the Van Tassel family bids Ichabod help stop him. UPDATED! R&R please.
1. Proposition

"Can we help you in any other way madam?"  
"No. This is wonderful. Thank you." 

"Yes'm."

The servant left the room after dropping into formal curtsy. The woman, having just barely left girlhood, stood framed in the window by the gray sky of an early New York autumn. After a moment she turned from the window and, lifting the billowing, pale blue cascades of her gown, stepped into a pair of satin heels that bore same color. She twisted her long and strikingly blonde hair up and pinned it into a bun, as was only acceptable of a lady. Throwing on her only cloak- a midnight blue starscape of velvet, embroidered with silver moons and pinpoints of silver stars. She was leaving this tiny and macabre hotel room, after all, she had a job to do.

-Break-

"No, no, no!" Ichabod cried. "Make the incision longwise, like this!" He demonstrated upon the straw and cotton body that his student practiced on. Then he reached in and pulled out an apple.

"It's...an apple...what difference does it make?" He said.

"It's the liver." Ichabod reprimanded. "And it can tell you many important things about the cause and time of death."  
"It's....an apple." Ichabod sighed and rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, whatever you say." He muttered, waving the apprentice away. This was his own city estate after all, and he was rather tiring of his servant quarters being littered with straw.

He sighed and leaned upon the table, rubbing his temples. "What an utter waste of time." His trail of thought was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Sir Ichabod?"  
"Yes?"

"Sir," A servant entered, followed by a figure cloaked in midnight blue. "There is someone here to see you."  
"Thank you." Ichabod rose as his guest entered. "Leave us."

"Yes Sir." His servant curtsied and exited.

"Welcome sir...or madam, I am Ichabod Crane..."  
"Yes. It was you I wished to see." His guest pushed back the hood of the cloak, and Ichabod was surprised to see the pale, smooth face of a woman, no older than seventeen. Her blonde hair, almost white, hung loose from what appeared to have once been a bun. Her gray- blue eyes were just a bit too big for her roundish face, giving her a childlike appearance. She seemed to be a doll staring up at him, her rosebud mouth a questioning pout. She reminded him vaguely of his dear Catrina, who was taken by a mysterious fever not twelve months ago in the blistering white of winter. 

"It was?" He was a bit surprised at this comment. 

"Yes. I am searching for a man named Ichabod who once visited my little town...Sleepy Hollow."

"S-sleepy hollow? What about Sleepy Hollow?"

"All I know of him was that he sent the Hessian back to his grave, and he may be the only chance we have to do it once more." She glanced at her gloved hands, which were crossed and clasped in one another, dangling in front of her skirts. 

"Y-you mean...the horseman..?" Ichabod could not control the sudden attack of trembling upon his body. His heart began to race.

"Yes. The horseman rides again." She looked him straight in the eye and pulled her gloves off, revealing to him her palms, slashed, as if in one swipe across both. "And I bear proof upon my very living flesh that this time it matters not to him whose head he takes, as long as it is a head." 

"That's...impossible. Miss, I am very sorry, but if this is some sort of a prank..."  
"It is not, Sir Crane, I swear it! And I beg of you, in the name of my father, Baltus Van Tassel, God rest his soul, to help us!"

"Baltus Van Tassel was your father?" Ichabod was growing more confused and frightened by the very second. The girl only nodded. "And my mother..."  
"The witch who brought the wrath of the horseman down upon your whole family?!"

"I do not know sir. I have heard it, but within a fortnight of my birth, I was sent away to New York...a wee babe to a nanny. I only returned when I was fourteen, and all was over and done with by then." She shrugged. "I know nothing of either my mother or my father, or the sister they say I once had, who the horseman also killed." She bowed her head. "But I don't want any more of my town to die. Ichabod, I, no, the entire village beg of you, please return with me to Sleepy Hollow, and help us end this once and for all!"  
"Well, I um...I..." He struggled to find the words. "...no...I..I'm very sorry Miss, but...I c-cannot honor your request, and... must be going now, early to bed early to rise..." He began to back away from her.

"Wait, Sir! I have not offered you your payment yet." She curtsied. "Please." Ichabod slowed, and then relented and stopped, looking at her.

"P-payment?"  
"Yes. I have a small amount of money I can offer you..." She looked at the floor and slowly removed her cloak from around her shoulders. "As well as a warm bed and three hot meals a day beneath a strong roof. And..."

"And...?" Ichabod pressed after a long silence from his strange guest from Sleepy Hollow.

"My body, which I can give as payment, if you accept, to use freely as you like..."  
"Preposterous!" He shouted, turning away from her. "Such things you say! I am very sorry, madam, but I am most definitely _not interested_!"

"Please sir!" She ran to him and dropped to her knees behind him on the floor. "I will give anything!" Ichabod paused, turned on his heel. After a moment of contemplation, he crouched on the floor in front of her. Her head was bowed, laying in her arms, disguised by her long straight hair. 

"You lost someone very important?" He asked softly. She lifted her head to look at him, and then nodded.

"A nanny, the only mother figure I ever had, who raised me....Mama Sullivan." She looked at him wide-eyed for a moment, then rose to her feet. "I should go now." She gathered up her cloak and slung it across her back, heading for the door. "Thank you for your time." 

"Miss?" He called after her. She looked over her shoulder at him, her face shrouded in the depths of her hood. 

"Yes, Ichabod?"  
"What is your name?"  
"Abigail." She turned away, but did not move.

"Abigail?" He repeated, taking a step foreward. She was still as stone, staring seemingly at the door. He felt pity for this girl, but also an overwhelming sense of respect for her courage and empathy. For her love of her little town. But he also felt love for her, as Catrina's only relative. Catrina. He had forgotten to tell Abigail that he had known her sister.

"Yes, Abigail..._Van Tassel._" She swept her cloak over one shoulder and unsheathed a dagger from concealment amongst the folds of fabric that made her dress, she whirled on Ichabod, knocking him to the floor with her clenched fist that grasped her weapon, and falling to him, raising the blade high... he screamed... and...


	2. Decision

"Wake up, Ichabod." The voice came to him as from far away, it was a female voice, a kind voice.

"Katrina…?" He murmured. Feeling came floating back into his hands, his fingertips were alive with the electric tingle of soft skin beneath them, he sucked in a sharp breath and sat up, burying his head in a shoulder he knew would be there, although his eyes were closed. "Oh, Katrina… I dreamed… I…"

"Katrina was buried this past winter, Ichabod… it said so, here in your ledger." Ichabod Crane opened his eyes.

"Ngyeh!" He gasped, pulling away from the warm comfort of Abigail's embrace and falling back onto the bed where he lay. "Tell me I am not in Sleepy Hollow…" He said after a moment.

"If you would have me lie, Ichabod, then I would."

"What… happened?" He sighed, suddenly unable to look anywhere but the ceiling.

"You fainted. I told your servants that I was sent to fetch you by a doctor, to remedy you of that very thing."

"Well, there would be no denying that you are a sly thing."

"Thank you, Ichabod." Abigail smiled. "I was worried for you… you did not wake during the ride here, nor for the rest of the afternoon… I am glad you came back in time to see the Horseman…"  
"No!" He sat up and grabbed her shoulder. "You cannot keep me here! I will send for the police in New York! Surely they will come and bring me home-- this is kidnapping!"  
"I doubt a letter will get very far… all the townspeople are too frightened to leave their houses." Abigail rose, and Ichabod saw for the first time that she was only wearing a white cotton shift. He felt the blood rush to his face as he closed his eyes. 

"Please, put on a housecoat, Ms. Van Tassel." He bade her. He heard an exasperated sigh and a door opened. 

"Mr. Crane, my nightclothes should be the least of your worries." He heard a door close, and yet he kept his eyes closed for several moments, hoping it was just a dream, hoping that when he opened them he would be safe in Katrina's arms. 

But he wasn't. 

Instead, a bland room with a wooden floor and pewter candelabra's upon the walls greeted him. The candles were dripping wax, indicating that it had been dark for several hours. 

"Abby!" A voice outside of his window called. He roused himself and slid out of the large bed, moving to the open window and gazing out into the night, where a young man stared up at him, confused.

"Young master, try knocking on the door." He told the youthful face, which disappeared in the shadows on the front stoop. Below him he could hear the door being banged softly, and then opening. _What sort of gentleman makes calls upon a young woman so late in the evening?_ Ichabod thought, looking out at the overcast night sky. Below him, he heard hurried voices whispering, and then shoes pounded up the stairs and the door burst open.

"Master Crane?" The young man inquired, Ichabod started, turned. 

"Yes?" He asked, surprised. The young man looked at him, breathless. 

"Abby told me that you were here to help us be rid of the Hessian, is it true you are here to help us once again?"  
"I… well…" Now she had gone and done it. How was Ichabod going to tell this gentleman he was terrified, and that he could not stand the thought of even staying in Sleepy Hollow?

"Daniel." Abigail's smiling face appeared in the doorway. "Please, do not disturb our guest. " Daniel turned and smiled at her.

"Of Course, Abby." He responded, bowing briefly to Ichabod before leaving him. The door closed again, and Ichabod sighed. What would Katrina have wanted him to do? Well, stay and complete the task asked of him, of course, but how could he? How…

"Daniel, please, think about this." He heard Abigail pleading in the next room. "Ichabod is here to rid us of this evil, you know he cannot be done away with by mortal means."  
"Abby, I have to try… he took my family."

"You have me."  
"Forgive me, Abby, but our relationship leaves something to be desired." The responded, not harshly. 

"We're promised!"  
"You know as well as I that that betrothal means nothing now that our families are gone…"  
"So you are willing to give your own life for nothing?"  
"It's not nothing!" The young man shouted now. "It is my family's memory!"  
"You'll die!"

"At least I am not afraid to!" A door opened hurriedly, feet capped down the stairs, and Ichabod heard the front door open and slam. Ichabod saw the first blue streak of lightning split the sky just as he heard the boy's horse shriek; spooked, and hooves retreat from the house. The coroner knew too well what was coming, and threw the door to his room open, only to find Abigail staring down the stairwell at the closed front door, her pale face crumpled in silent dismay, her underclothes still uncovered. 

"Ms. Van Tassel, you just let that boy go to his death!" He declared. She looked at him a moment, and then another bolt of lightning creased the clouds. Outside, the horse screamed again, and a loud drumming, like the hoofbeats of the Stallion of Lucifer himself, came close. Abigail streaked down the stairs as Daniel's cry pierced the air, hurrying out into the autumn night practically naked, leaving the door ajar. Ichabod, froze, the darkness of the windy night glared at him, and then, with a sigh of exasperation, followed the mistress of the house. Lightning washed everything a bright silver for a moment, and he could see, ahead of him, a path going out through a field, bordered by the woods, and branching off towards the center of the small village. "Abigail?" He called, over the heightening wind. He began to hurry down the first leg of the path. As he reached the fork, he could hear her mournful cries growing louder and louder, and finally, he saw her kneeling over Daniel's prostrate form, weeping madly. 

"Mr. Crane… This town has gone mad… it is as if they go to their deaths willingly…" She wept, another bolt of lightning cracked the clouds above, and he could see she was bent over the boy's headless body… rocking back and forth in a crazed sorrow. "He was such a sensible man… what made him do this…?" She sobbed. He could see that the body itself was ot bleeding, but her palms, the cuts he had noticed before, were gushing crimson. Then he saw the sky reeling over him, and then he saw nothing.


End file.
